


i will light up the night (with the love in my heart)

by CaptainLeBubbles



Series: Gold [3]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Not Active Town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9410663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLeBubbles/pseuds/CaptainLeBubbles
Summary: Sometimes Bad Bradley seems to go out of his way to make himself hard to love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> These two are going to be the death of me.

Loving Bad Bradley isn’t _easy_.

That isn’t to say that he doesn’t, or that he regrets it, or even that he could stop even if he wanted to. Athletic Man loves Bradley with all of his heart, can’t stop won’t stop.

But the _act_  of loving him- of being there for him, of giving him the things he needs, but doesn’t want, of taking care of him in all the ways that he refuses to do for himself, of knowing when to back off and when to keep pushing, of knowing when to indulge and when to plant his feet, all of that- all of the things that _come_ with loving him- all of that is a daily challenge.

A challenge that Athletic Man will forever regret mentioning, in a moment of exasperation while Bradley refused, as per usual, to have a small glass of water in between sodas.

“Why must you make it so _difficult_  to care for you?” he’d said, running long fingers through his hair when the glass was knocked from his hands. He’d regretted it instantly: Bradley had frozen where he was, mouth open, the soda he was holding slipping from his hand and spilling everywhere.

And then his hand had fallen, and his shoulders had slumped, and all of the fight had gone out of him.

“I never asked you to,” he said quietly, and then raised his shoulders again, hunching and glaring up at Athletic Man, fists curled at his side. “I never asked you to!” he repeated, shouting this time.

He’d stormed away after that, ignoring Athletic Man’s calls to wait, to come back, that that wasn’t what he meant-

It’s been three hours. Athletic Man has no idea where Bradley is, has been wandering all over campus searching for him. The last person to see him was Chester, who says she saw pass through the library about two hours ago. She doesn’t know where he was going, she says, and he looked upset, she says, and is everything okay? she asks, because Athletic Man is looking _very_  worried.

“Everything is fine, amiga,” he says gently. “I think I upset him, and I looking for him so I can apologize.”

It’s the most he can offer without getting too personal. Chester accepts it as he offers, and wishes him luck, and heads back to her homework, while Athletic Man carries on seeking out Bradley.

He’s not in the library anymore- Athletic Man has already combed it. He’s not in the student center, or the game room, either, and he doesn’t have any friends whose dorms he might be in. He’s not in the gym. He’s not on the front lawn. And no one Athletic Man has asked has seen him anywhere, or knows where he might be.

-/-

He’s making his way through the corridors checking the classrooms when he suddenly stops, going very still as he realizes that he knows exactly where Bradley is. He doesn’t know why he didn’t think of it earlier, but he _should_  have. It should have been the first place he looked, and he chides himself over not realizing. Some boyfriend he’d turned out to be- but there will be time to deal with that later, after he’s found Bradley and apologized to him. He turns and heads back to the library, thinking through how he’s going to apologize, assuming he can get Bradley to listen.

He finds Bradley exactly where he knew he’d be: in the server room at the back of the library. The room is usually locked, and no one is allowed in there but the IT team, but Bradley is good at picking locks and rarely bothers to follow rules anyway. Athletic Man pushes the door carefully, unsurprised to find it unlocked, and steps in.

Bradley is in the back of the room, tucked away in a corner and hunched over a set of wires that he’s fiddling with. They’re tangled up horribly; Athletic Man isn’t clear on whether Bradley is tangling them more or trying to untangle them, so he ignores that.

“Bradley?” he says, gently. Bradley looks up, then looks down at the wires again, glaring at them. Athletic Man sighs, and moves closer, kneeling in front of Bradley. “Bradley, may I speak?”

This earns him an even stronger glare at the wires, but Bradley does shrug, so Athletic Man takes that as grudging invitation and sits down, folding his legs in front of him and staring down at his hands in his lap, gathering himself so that he doesn’t say the wrong thing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because that seems like a good way to start. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, it’s important to say how you feel,” he grumbles, still not looking up from the wires. “If I’m so hard to care about-”

“No,” Athletic Man interrupts him. “No, Bradley, amigo, no, you are _not_  hard to care about. Caring about you is the easiest thing I have ever done, as easy as breathing.”

“You have to do _breathing exercises_ ,” Bradley points out, looking up just long enough to glare at him. Athletic Man laughs, because Bradley has just given him a perfect metaphor. He takes a deep breath now, letting it out slowly.

“True,” he says. “Breathing is easy, but it takes practice to be able to breathe in a way that is the best for me and my body.”

“I’m sorry I’m not _healthy_  enough for you on my own,” Bradley mumbles. There’s still hurt there, Athletic Man can see it in his eyes, what of them he can see. He takes another slow, deep breath.

“I love you,” he says suddenly. It’s hard to say who is more surprised by this: it wasn’t what he meant to say, and across from him, Bradley has frozen one more. He decides to push on from there. “I love you,” he says again. “And I.. I worry about you. I’m frightened by how poorly you treat yourself. I want you to be happy, and healthy, and safe, and you fight me on everything. And it is… very difficult. Very stressful. To love someone so hard, when he makes me worry so much.”

He falls silent there, giving Bradley a moment to take in what he’s said. Bradley pulls his knees up, still fiddling absently with the wires in his hand. “What do you want to go worrying about me for, anyway?” he demands.

Athletic Man smiles softly at him. “Because you’re worth worrying about.”

“I’m a two-bit villain who can’t even keep a bunch of college students wired on caffeine or stop a hero-reject from doing yoga.” He scowls. “And I can’t even get these wires untangled. I’m the one that tangled them, you know. I should be able to untangle them.”

“Bradley…” He leans forward and gently, very gently, pulls the wires from Bradley’s hands, then holds his arms apart in invitation. Bradley hesitates before taking it, hurling himself forward with his usual level of intensity and knocking them both to the floor. Athletic Man tightens his arms around Bradley and holds him close, shifting them into a more comfortable position and pressng his lips to the side of Bradley’s hair.

“Say it again,” Bradley demands, once he’s made himself comfortable. It takes Athletic Man a moment, and he smiles.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“Mmm, that’s nice.” Bradley tucks himself closer and hums contentedly. “Again.”

Athletic Man laughs at this, and presses kisses down Bradley’s neck, leaving behind a trail of ‘I love you’s that have him squirming in Athletic Man’s lap until he hooks his arms around Bradley’s waist and stands abruptly, picking Bradley up with him. Bradley shrieks at the sudden loss of firm ground beneath him and tightens his legs around Athletic Man’s waist, clinging to him for fear of falling.

“What are you _doing_?!”

“Taking you home,” Athletic Man says. “Unless you’d rather stay in this cold server room surrounded by tangled wires?”

Bradley looks around thoughtfully. “I do like the chaos,” he says, and then, “So your home or mine?” He lowers his legs carefully; Athletic Man puts him on the ground gingerly, but doesn’t let go of him.

“You hate my airship.”

“Only cause you won’t let me _drive_.”

Athletic Man laughs at that, and as they leave the server room, the air is filled with the sound of their gentle bickering.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you mean using these two to unpack all the shit in my own head?


End file.
